


this love is ours

by explodingsnapple



Series: Cheers to the 99th Precinct! [4]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Episode: s05e02 The Big House Pt. 2, F/M, Sorry Not Sorry, This is kinda angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 18:04:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17647328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/explodingsnapple/pseuds/explodingsnapple
Summary: Amy's car breaks down, and so does she, waiting for her boyfriend to come home from jail. Missing moment from 5x02.





	this love is ours

_Oh no. No, no, no. This_ cannot _be happening right now._ Amy desperately tries to start her car once more, only for the engine to sputter tiredly and shut down. She glances at her watch -- it’s nearly 4:30pm, Jake’s flight is due to land in an hour or so, and she’s about 45 minutes from the airport, which means she won’t be able to get there in time. Damn it, why didn’t she take the day off that Holt offered and just go to the airport with Boyle?

There’s no time to dwell on that now. Quickly, she pulls out her phone and sends Charles a text informing him that she wouldn’t be able to make it. Rolling her eyes at the reply (“Yes! I get to make up for the Touching Time u used up during visiting day!”), Amy wishes desperately that Jake remembered to charge his contraband phone before boarding his flight that morning. At least then she would have been able to talk to him as soon as he landed. Oh well.

Sighing, Amy makes call to one of her brothers, who used to work as a mechanic, asking him to come and take a look at her vehicle. She then makes her way back into the apartment, which had been far too empty for far too long. As she hangs her coat back up, she quickly glances around the living room, making sure that everything is in place. She double- and triple-checks that all the Die Hard DVDs are in working condition and that there is ice in the freezer (Jake had briefly mentioned he hurt his ankle during a fight, which couldn’t have been pretty), before making her way into their bedroom. Clean sheets, check. Two pillows on each side, check. Jake’s childhood teddy bear on his dresser, check. Straightened picture frames on her dresser, check. A new toothbrush for Jake in the bathroom, check. A copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ , wrapped in blue paper, check. His hoodies back in his side of the closet, check. Amy can hear her heartbeat get louder and louder with each checkmark. Taking deep breaths, trying to calm down, Amy thinks to herself, _He’s okay, Rosa’s okay, and they’re coming home. Everything’s fine._ So why does she feel like she’s spiraling?

As Amy closes the closet door, she sees an old, white tank top with black lining, a remnant of Jake’s stint in WITSEC. She remembers the day vividly. The mixed feelings of love, desperation, and nausea she felt when she saw him for the first time in three months. The panic when she realized that, for whatever reason, they weren’t “in sync,” as Jake put it. The actual nausea that set in just after she shot him and thought maybe she misinterpreted the nod.

Those first few weeks were difficult. Although they were “back in sync,” three months was a long time for them to not see or talk each other. They’d missed their one-year anniversary, for one thing. But it was also terrifying for Amy because of how much they began to rely on each other in the aftermath. She could feel the shift in the quiet moments that happened long after the sun had gone down- when he wrapped his arms around her waist tightly even as he slept, afraid of letting go; when he lay on his back, unable to look at her, whispering about his father and the bullies and the feeling of rejection that seemed to follow him; when she nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck and cried into his shoulder after spending all day trying to catch a rapist, only to come up with dead-end after dead-end, and it was now his turn to do the comforting. It was then that Amy Santiago realized she had more than just fallen for Jake Peralta. It was so much more, and there was no going back.

Amy quickly exits the bedroom and goes back on the couch, trying to compose herself. She sighs, closing her eyes. She has to get over whatever is in her head, and fast. That was why she chose to go in to work today; she knew that staying at home would let this feeling of, well, whatever it is, to fester and overflow. Unfortunately, she’s now been alone and unoccupied for too long to push it away anymore.

She knows why she’s so giddy, almost scared, of seeing Jake again. Things are too far gone now for her to walk away unscathed if - god forbid - something changes between them, even momentarily, once he comes back. Sure, they worked through it last time, but now their bond is infinitely times larger, and Amy’s not sure if they’ll be able to overcome something that’s strong enough to shake things up in the first place. And yes, it’s different from last year: she knew where he was, and got to see him every few weeks, and he called her twice a day once he got his hands on a phone. But unlike last year, when she knew he was safe, Amy simply doesn’t know anything about what Jake went through while in prison. Yes, he mentioned a fight with a guard, but he offered no other details than “my ankle kinda hurts, but it should get better soon, now tell me about the latest Nikolaj-escapade Charles mentioned.” Amy, however, is smart enough to recognize that this is classic Jake-compartmentalizing, and she’s worried.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door. She opens it to find her brother George, the ex-mechanic, at her doorstep with some tools. She hugs him hello and leads him back down the stairs to where her car is parked, letting a comfortable silence sit between them. George was always the quiet one, greatly preferring to be alone instead of in the company of his brothers, yet extraordinarily patient with his inquisitive little sister who thought the world of him.

As he opens the hood of her car, George suddenly turns to her and asks, “Hey, aren’t Diaz and Jake getting out today? Or is it tomorrow?”

Amy nods and replies nonchalantly, “Mmhm. Charles Boyle is on his way to pick them up right now. We’re meeting at Shaw’s later on.”

George raises an eyebrow at that, asking the silent question -- Is everything okay? Amy tries to muster a smile, but to her horror, she finds herself telling her brother everything, starting with WITSEC and culminating with her recent urge to hide everytime she thinks about seeing her boyfriend again.

“Anyway, sorry to unload all of that on you. But yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for fixing the car,” she says, drying her eyes quickly. George peels his gloves off and closes the car hood again, and lays a hand on her shoulder.

“Amy, that feeling you’re feeling? It’s love in its purest form. You’re so worried about him, you might combust. It’s normal, but you can’t let it get to you. Go see Jake; I promise you, everything will be fine afterwards. There’s nothing to cry about here.”

Amy nods and her brother kisses her forehead, and she allows him to lead her back up the stairs.

* * *

 

She shows up at Shaw’s at 6:55, surprisingly one of the last to get there (Scully, it seems, got lost on his way).

She considers, briefly, hiding behind Terry and waiting for Jake to make his way over to her when he comes in, but as soon as she sees him, she immediately ditches that plan. He grins as he makes a stupid joke, and when she kisses him, it’s nothing like last year. There’s no awkwardness or unnecessary small talk. Their banter isn’t forced, it’s as natural as it ever was. And most importantly, it’s just her and Jake, on the same page, nothing has changed. It’s at this moment that Amy Santiago just _knows_. She makes up her mind to go ring shopping after Christmas -- she wants a few months to gauge how ready Jake is first. Plus, she she needs time to write her speech, a process that would require _at least_ its own filing system. 

* * *

 

(Post-Halloween, she’s slightly annoyed that she no longer has an excuse to buy a fancy silver-colored binder for Engagement Planning, but she has to admit -- she couldn’t imagine a better proposal, and as long as she gets to spend the rest of her life with the man she loves, she'll be okay.)

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the Taylor Swift song "Ours"  
> Thank you guys so much for reading! I'm on Tumblr as well as exploding-snapple if you want to talk or send me more prompts :)


End file.
